a river system and the master mind behind it.
Tired of washing sheets and teaching math.
Tired of never actually wanting to go to church.
Tired of coming up with the dinner, making the dinner, cleaning up the dinner.
reading her valentine card from her daddy and her brother.
Tired of dirty socks on the floor, books used for car ramps, pieces of board games used for horse food.
I’m tired of telling myself over and over that the mess will clean up, it’s no big deal, they’re kids and they’re growing and learning. I’m tired of forcing myself to believe in and have peace in something that I want my mind and heart to just actually believe in and have peace in.
I’m tired of keeping my cool about the mess and the socks for an enormous amount of time and then losing it.
I’m tired of feeling guilty for losing it and then promising myself I won’t let the mess and the toys get me worked up ever again. Ever.
I’m tired of feeling guilty for relishing in our at home schedule, where we get boring things done like math and language arts and laundry, wondering if there are better things we need to be doing and places we need to be going.
I’m tired of forcing myself to go to play dates and to chic fil a and to the orchestra and then feeling the weight of being “behind” and recovering from such a busy week.
a valentine tradition. dave and ian kick us out of the house and make dinner and set a special valentine table.
I’m tired of things that are good for me being hard. Running. Getting out the door with all of us looking halfway decent on a Sunday morning. Eating semi-healthy. Being out in the world.
Tired of hearing my kids words hurt each other and reminding them to “please use kind words” and “please don’t talk to me that way.”
my valentine to dave: cleaning out the van. it's sad that this is actually a real gift.
I’m tired of things being hard and stressful for my amazing husband. I’m tired of him working so diligently and honestly only to be knocked down over and over.
I’m tired of fighting for joy. I’m tired of choosing joy. I’m tired of finding joy.
I’m thankful for strong coffee with thick, frothy cream.
Thankful for the way a hard run clears my mind and awakens my heart.
Thankful for the blessing it always is to teach my 4th and 5th grade class, to hear glenn’s teaching and to worship in community.
preparing for her moana birthday party.
Thankful for the delicious feeling of satisfaction after using black beans and brown rice to stretch a pound of ground beef into taco salad, tacos and taco soup.
Thankful that my strong conviction to save my children’s childhood from the clutches of screens outweighs the mess of busy, imaginative kids every time.
Thankful that there is grace when I lose it. Thankful that my kids get to hear me say I’m sorry, that they get to witness me needing Jesus.
quiet reading hour in front of the heater.
I’m thankful that I feel so strongly and passionately about avery, ashton and ian learning at home with me for this season and that that passion wins again and again over the untidy inconveniences that come with homeschooling.
I’m thankful that when I push myself to go out into the world where there are real people (J) and interesting places, perspective from a friend's thoughts, or watching my kids experience something new makes it always worth it.
I’m thankful that days at home will always be our firm foundation.
I’m thankful for a husband who gets up every time he’s knocked down and that he leads us by example by finding ways to laugh in the midst of trouble.
And I’m thankful that whenever I truly seek joy, I find it.